Friday, 19 July 2013

Bye bye boy

The preceding days did not pan out for me as I had hoped. My bed remains empty, my desire unfulfilled. We didn't cross that line, ultimately I don't think he wanted to, he was just careless with his words, flirtatious in his ways. I sensed my want for him became heavy, demanding, not the mindless fling his body was seeking. I tried not to be that way, but I suppose my craving for passion overtook the reality of the situation. So needy and greedy, wanted to swallow him whole, yet hated the thought of him not being free. He hurt my pride, I thought it was just me, unique me, that he wanted, but I've learned this wasn't the case, and I learned it the hard way, like a stinging slap across the face. His farewell drinks and dinner, I ended up not being seated near him, but across from a sweet young man, and we got talking, and talking and shared our food. I could see my beloved bespectacled boy flirting with a girl, not from our work, and much closer to his age, but secretly I still hoped I'd find my way to him later in the evening. At the end of the meal, he came around, organising the payment of the bill. The young man I'd shared food with, commented to him that we'd had something of a dinner date. My colleague, drunk by this stage, said something along the lines of 'she is mine'. No, that's exactly what he said. She is mine. Proprietary. Perhaps in jest, but I heard the underlying warning. I didn't look to see his face, or at least I can't remember it now, I remember I laughed and rolled my eyes, but I felt something very primal respond in me at his words. Yes, I am yours. 

But he did nothing further that night to claim me. In fact he seemed to divert his attentions back to the other girl, and after a time I couldn't take it anymore so I left after a cool farewell, a nothing hug, an embrace that would have been warmer between strangers. And that's the end of that story, I'm relieved in some ways to see the back of him, my feelings had escalated and intensified so much in these last days with him, and it was becoming too intense. Having him disappoint me, show me his true colours, his carelessness, his lack of desire toward me when compared to my own, makes it easier to not look back, not dwell, soak, parade the memories around and around in my mind. I don't want to feel bitter, he is just so young after all, I can't expect him to have the intuition and nurturing care that I have, to know how to let me down gently, or to even have the insight that I might need to be treated with care, my vulnerable heart. 

So goodbye to you forever. It turns out I loved you. Yes. I am yours. But I will never ever ask you to be mine. 

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